Threads of Trust
by X-Lisa-Anne-X
Summary: Peter Burke has an adopted sister; one many people don't know about. He turned FBI and she turned Conman, or should we say, Con-Woman? Avery Daniels broke out of prison for one reason that folded. In light of joining the White Collar team will she change when meeting the dashing Neal Caffrey, FBI Agent in the WC Division, or will she stay the same? Lonely and lost of a purpose?
1. Prologue

**Before Story Notes! IMPORTANT**

 **Avery is the past adoptive sister of the Burke family. The show never mentioned Peter's actual family so I'm making it up as I go along!**

 **Neal Caffrey is an FBI Agent! And he's not fully like the person in the show (he's not a conman … yet).**

 **I know in the show I think Neal is like, 38 or something but I'm going with 33 for the purposes of my story. Avery will be 29.**

 **White Collar Fanfic | Threads of Trust | Prologue**

Avery Daniels; convicted of Bond Forgery and suspected of counterfeiting, art forgery, racketeering and security's fraud. This got her a four-year sentence and yet there were only three months left, but surprisingly, she didn't want to wait until her release date – she needed to get out … now.

Megan Lowe, the secret she's kept from her brother and pretty much everyone whom she didn't know closely. There was only one guy who knew actually, apart from her of course. A few weeks ago was the last time Megan was seen and the last visit always replayed in Ava's head – after realizing everything that had happened, something just didn't fit right, the situation didn't feel right. All those years ago, Avery made a promise to herself and Megan – she would protect the younger girl and so far, she hasn't done such a great job. Ava landed herself in prison because of it.

Avery brushed through her newly darkened and cut hair, she had just completed drying and staining the strands with a coffee ground dye in order to darken it. Naturally she's a blonde, strawberry blonde to be exact and in this place – she could stick out like a sore thumb, especially during her escape attempt. There were still a few more party tricks up her sleeve to stop everyone from being alerted about her fleeing.

For the past nearly four years, Avery's been a model prisoner, she only became one because if an escape was likely to happen – she didn't want to be under extreme lockdown and right now, she's in the best position she could possibly be. Her plan was already worked out and it had been for weeks – but now she had a true incentive to put it into action.

Once her face was clear of stains and dirt, she retrieved a plastic bag from inside the toilet tank. After much surveillance (secretly), Ava knew that no one ever came into this staffroom toilet and it was connected to a hallway that would lead her in the right direction. The fact that no one came in here was a very good thing, it's given her probably an extra half-an-hour to make herself different in appearance.

Opening the dripping wet bag, she retrieved a nearly used up eye liner and a very small bottle of mascara – for someone with Ava's type of skills, it was easy to grab these items off the guards, especially when most of the population was female – except for the warden, he's a man.

After applying the very little make-up, she reached into the bag again and pulled out a set of guard clothing – the last piece to make her appearance completely different. With this uniform and her newly dyed and cut hair not finished – she'll be unrecognisable upon first sight. They won't be expecting this change so nothing will happen – they'll still see her as her blonde self with no make-up. Gotta love the art of what so little can do to an appearance.

And then everything was done – she was ready to initiate her plan.

Looking into the mirror; Avery saw someone with dark hazel eyes that were filled with experiences only certain people could know or understand. Her dark hair was naturally wavy but with all that length off, it felt different. The strands used to drop down to the point of her elbows and ever since arriving in this place – she's been growing it. Her uniform was like any other guards clothing and the plastic bag was obviously keeping it dry while in the toilet tank, hidden out of plain sight. Quite a few times she's seen new guards and trainees wandering around – that's basically who she's going to become now, for the next few minutes anyway.

Avery nodded to herself towards the mirror, letting out a breath, her heart pumping with adrenaline as she continuously walked through her plan. She knew everything would work out though – she's smarter than most of the people in this place and a lot of the guards are just plain stupid anyway.

With one last check to make sure she had her card, the one that would get her out the front door – she headed towards the exit connecting to the hallway.

It was time to break out of this place and find Megan.

…

Agent Peter Burke of the FBI was NOT having a good day; the moment that Security Box exploded into dust was the moment he wanted to punch through a wall and be done with it. They were looking for a Criminal that was nicknamed, ' _The Dutchman'_ and so far it hasn't been at all fun. Peter Burke has been looking for this one person for probably the same length of time as someone else he had to put away nearly four years ago, someone he used to know.

FBI agents were scattered around him, all coughing harder than he was – dust was literally filling the room while a few Agents rushed to open a few windows. "Argh!" He exclaimed with annoyance, but he was mostly pissed that the one lead they've had in months had literally blown up in their faces. "We were _this_ close to the Dutchman and my evidence gets blown up!" Using his fingers to show a small distance – indicating that they were _so_ close. Many of the agents around him bowed their heads, ashamed that all the man hours that had been put into this were now wasted.

A dark skinned man in his mid-thirties coughed once before addressing his superior, "Agent Burke, how'd you know it was going to do that?" Indicating to the now destroyed Security Box. Peter had called out for everyone to stop, but it had been too late because now _this_ happened.

Agent Burke brushed stuff off his suit even though getting off dust would be impossible, especially while they were still standing in a cloud of the substance. "Three, two and four." He began, irritated that only he had been the one to realize this connection. It was a mockery, that's what this was. "Look at your phones – what does it spell?!"

The man from before, Clinton Jones, looked down at his phone, "Oh," Kicking himself mentally when he realised too, no wonder Peter was pissed, it should have been the most obvious thing to spot. "'FBI'" A couple of people around him started to look ashamed, especially the ones who considered themselves the smartest people in the room.

"Yeah," Peter grunted, calming himself down but was still annoyed with what had happened. They now had _nothing_ to lead them to the Dutchman, they were back to the start again. " _'FBI'_ " He repeated for good measure.

Jones shook his head, "He must have known we were coming." He assumed. Whoever this person was – they were mocking the Federal Bureau of Investigations. And, he/she was doing pretty good job of it too.

Peter scoffed, "You think so, Copernicious?" He said with a sarcastic measure. There was so much dust and other stuff staining his suit – it's his favourite one too! "So, does someone wanna tell me what this is? … anybody?" Picking up a small strand of something unidentified from his shoulder, holding it up to the light. It was like a thin strand of red thread but it felt more like a wire to the touch, but it couldn't be, it was way too thin to be something like that. So, what was it?

Everyone was silent – no one had an answer to give – not even a guess.

" _Nobody_ knows what this is?" Peter was getting annoyed again. "Great!" He exclaimed, "Look at you … how many of you went to Harvard?" He questioned rhetorically, but as everyone in the room pretty much raised their hands – his eyes shut with exasperation, honestly feeling embarrassed for them … and himself. When they realised that they shouldn't have put up their hands – they slowly brought them down, looking sheepish.

Just then; two new people walked into the room – Diana Berrigan and Neal Caffrey, two of Peter's Probationary Agents in the White Collar Division. Diana was an average size woman with slightly lighter skin than Agent Jones but she had the aura of confidence and dedication brimming off her. The man beside her, Neal Caffrey, he was slightly taller than her and was also expelling confidence but most of all - interest. He hasn't been in the FBI as long as the many others in the room have, but he's still working alongside his mentor Agent Peter Burke. He dark hair was gelled back just enough and unlike the other Agents, he wore a suit that looked much like the Rat Pack style of clothing. He was a unique character.

Peter's eye lit up slightly when he saw his two Agents come into the room. "Ah, Diana, Neal." He started, "Apparently, our boy has a sense of humor." These were the two Agents he trusted the most out of the group and Jones was with them. They're a tight net group and have worked together well on past cases.

Diana stopped in front of Peter, her façade serious – that's what made Peter frown, looking both confused and concerned. Neal stayed behind Diana – he may have confidence and skill in everything he does, but Diana would always be above him in authority. He'll leave her to announce what they've just found out – he wasn't entirely sure how Peter Burke would react.

"What?" Peter questioned, his tone silently demanding an answer.

Diana sighed, keeping her voice down but she knew everyone around the two were going to be listening in anyway. "Avery Daniels escaped." Her tone blunt.

…

Avery Daniels, or in other words, Avery Burke – Peter's adopted sister was never the one like following rules. Not many people know this fact, nor do they care, but Peter did. Avery had always been distant growing up after arriving in his family at the age of 11. She mostly stayed to herself but he always found himself protective over her, even when the bombshell hit him as he found out the things she's done over the years. When she turned 18; Avery disappeared and was never to be seen again. Until … her case file was put on his desk; she was never really missing after all, just under different identities that were very tricky to pinpoint. To say it was a shock to find out everything she's _allegedly_ done was an understatement of the Century.

The day he had to arrest her was a numbing day – she may not completely see it, but he still saw her as his sister, even if they weren't blood-related in any way. She was still family – just as much as the White Collar group were.

"What's this?" Peter questioned after getting over his initial shock. He grabbed the file that Diana held out for him to take, walking behind her and away from the dust-filled room. They were in the hallway, moving away from all the prying ears and eyes that wanted to butt into the conversation.

Diana tried brushing some of the aftermath off his suit, but even she couldn't get all of it off. "The U.S. Marshals are requesting your help." She told him, not surprised by the request being given to him. She knew about the sibling connection but even then, Peter had still been the one to catch Avery after three years of chasing. It was impressive to her.

"MY help?" Peter asked, making sure. It's been years since he's seen Avery – the day she was prosecuted for that matter. He didn't go and visit her like he probably should have done – but for the things she did, or allegedly did, it was just something he couldn't understand on some level. Most of it still hadn't fully processed through his mind. Even after seven-ish years now. He still didn't get why she left home and why she became this criminal – she broke all connections with them the moment she did.

Diana hummed, nodding her head, "Director Thompson asked for you personally." They stopped at a good distance away from everyone.

"Why would he want me?" Peter questioned, but again, he already knew why. The question just slipped out before he could stop it.

Diana just sent him a dumb look, knowing that he knew the answer already, "Maybe because you're the only one who's actually been able to catch her?" She replied, raising an eyebrow. No ones had been able to catch Avery … accept Peter Burke. "And besides, you're probably the only one that really knows how she thinks."

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	2. Pilot - Part 1

**Just an important note, I've slightly changed the prologue to fit my story better. James Monroe has been changed to an OC character of mine – Megan Lowe. Re-read the first section of the Prologue to read a bit about her! It felt like everything would get very complicating if I had Avery chasing after an OC guy so that's when Megan popped into mind.**

 **Megan Lowe's character appearance – think of Michelle Trachtenberg. Looks like I'm bringing back Buffy and Dawn for this story, lol.**

 **White Collar Fanfic | Threads of Trust | Pilot – Part 1**

A few hours later, Peter Burke found himself visiting the prison where Avery had been staying for the past three and ¾ years. As soon as he entered the front doors, there was a line up of five people standing there, waiting for him to arrive. Two of the women to the side were guards of a high rank, two others (men) were in business suits and then there was another guy that had a bold red tie hanging from his neck. He was the one that stood out the most, considering his suit was a polished black.

"Agent Burke." The man with the red tie smiled slightly upon seeing him enter. He took a step forwards, reaching out his hand to shake politely. "I'm Thompson." He introduced himself, "U.S. Marshals." Peter shook his hand but obviously didn't look pleased. From what he heard; they basically let Avery walk out the front door under their watch. "We appreciate the help." They let go of hands, "You are the case agent?"

Two people stopped behind Peter; they were from his division, looking to help while the others kept on going with the Dutchman's case.

"Yes, I was." He answered, nodding but kept his un-pleased gaze on the man.

Thompson still didn't understand Avery Daniels – especially with what has just happened today. Why would someone escape with only 4 months left on a four-year term? "So, you'll agree that this is an unusual situation?"

Peter agreed, "Why would Avery run with just four months left on a four-year sentence?" Voicing out the man's inner queries.

Thompson nodded, "That's what we're wondering." One of the suited men behind him came up to the pair, looking a little anxious. Thompson glanced over to him before introducing this new person to the Case Agent, "This is Warden Haskley." He said, "Agent Burke of the FBI."

Peter shook his hand, but cocked an unimpressed eyebrow, "So, _you're_ the one who dropped the ball."

Haskley swallowed nervously, "You of all people should know what Avery Daniel's is capable of." He tried to derail the blame off himself. This has never happened to him before so long as he's been in charge. He was sure to be fired for this stunt after Daniel's gets caught again.

Peter just sent the man a humorless smile. It was true though, his sister was indeed very smart and anyone who didn't really know her couldn't imagine the things that she was actually capable of. She's a con-woman and very resourceful. He wasn't actually that surprised when he heard of her escape. But at this close to being free – something was up and he intended to find out what it was, "I know I spent three years chasing her and you pretty much let her walk out the front door."

Thompson could feel the tension building between the two, so he butted in, his tone sounding just a touch urgent when he spoke, "Gentlemen." He stopped the incoming head-banging. He headed towards the inner door, the way that led to the prison cells, "Might I remind you that Daniels has a _four-hour_ head start?"

…

Thompson, Haskley and Burke were heading down the hallways side by side, past many of the cells that were currently unoccupied. Every prisoner was scattered across the facility doing their daily routines.

"Avery came out of the E Block Staff Bathroom and dressed as a guard." Peter repeated, having read a brief report on the way over. He glanced over to Thompson, "Where did she get the uniform?"

Thompson sighed, this was the more embarrassing part, more than the fact that Avery simply walked out of the front door. "Uniform supply company on the Internet."

' _Makes sense.'_ Peter thought, ' _Many prisoners have their ways of bringing things in from the outside. I really shouldn't be surprised that my sister did something like that too.'_

"She used a credit card?"

At this point; Thompson turned a glare over to the Warden – this part was completely _his_ wrong doing. A terrible one at that.

"She, uh," Haskley looked nervous once again, feeling the glare burning against his skin, "She used my wife's American Express." Peter couldn't help it, his lip quirked with amusement, he made sure to hide it enough, though. Peter really wasn't liking the fact that this guy was a Warden. From what he can tell, there's been mistake after mistake for this guy today. He was sure to find more faults along the way too.

Thompson ceased his glare, getting back to business, "We're tracing the number just in case she uses it again." He assured the Case Agent. If Avery Daniels was to use the credit card again – they'd know exactly where she is.

They arrived to the cell Avery had been sleeping in for nearly four years. "She won't." Peter told him, knowing Ava wouldn't be that stupid. If that's something she did – someone would have caught her years ago. After being in prison for over three years, Ava's collected quite a few things to have in her room and he'll admit, there was a sketchbook he sent her about a year on the small table, along with a few pencils. At this point she was deemed non-threatening, meaning there would be a minimal chance of a pencil stabbing happening in the future.

Peter looked over at one wall and it was completely covered with dozens upon dozens of five-streaked line symbols – each one counting five days that have gone by. They were marked on the wall by a felt tip pen and in other places there were a couple of sketches and artwork. They really were very good – she always had a gift in the arts. He just never thought she'd take this route and become another criminal he had to put away behind bars.

While he inspected everything in the room, he distractedly asked, "How did she get the key card for the gate?" Every Guard needed a key card in order to get in and out of the cell block.

Thompson leaned against the barred doorway, gesturing over to the recorder player while doing so, "Well, we think she re-striped a utility card, using the record head on that." Peter went over to the tape machine and pulled out the tape currently inside, it was marked, _'Ava's Mix #61'_. This machine was so old that he was surprised it still played anything.

"Probably should have given her a CD Player instead." He commented, closing up the tape player before looking around the room again. Peter sat down on the bed, it was covered in stuff and it was pretty much everything that could be found that could be connected with the escape plan she pulled. He started to flip through a truck manual as Thompson continued to re-tell Avery's plan of escapee – the one that succeeded.

"She just walked out of the front door and hot-wired a maintenance truck in the parking lot." He explained. "We found it abandoned near an airport. We've beefed up Security just in case she tried to get out that way." Referring to Airport Security.

Peter let out a small scoff under his breath. There was a reason as to why Ava broke out of prison this early, earning herself another four years if she's caught and flying away on a plane to another country just isn't something she'd do in this situation. He may not really know her personally anymore … since her late teen years, but he still _knew_ her. She was still his sister. "You're not going to catch Avery using road blocks and wanted posters." Speaking out his thoughts, flipping through the several books and leaflets littered all over her cell bed. The two that stood out was a leaflet for airport valet staff and a Dummies book on the make-up of a truck's structure, much like the one she had stolen in the parking lot.

Peter couldn't help but catch the strong whiff of coffee beans surrounding him and just over to the side, he saw a small bowl with a darkened paste in it. It smelt a little foul to him. His brows creased, nodding over to the substance, "What's that?" Picking the bowl up that barely had any of the mixture left in it, just a pungent smell.

Haskley could answer that, "She dyed her hair just before escaping – it's how the guards didn't recognise her leaving."

Peter frowned, looking confused. He knew Ava loved her shade of hair colour and it sounded odd that she'd go to that length in order to get out of this place. Something prompted her to leave before her sentence end date and it must have been a very important reason to do so. Especially with only four months left.

"I need to know when she last had a visitor." An inkling started forming in his head.

…

Haskley skimmed through the visitor records quickly, focusing on the last two weeks, trying to find Avery's name and the name of a visitor next to it. He remembered briefly someone coming to see the woman, a younger girl, but he couldn't recall much more than that.

"She had a visitor." He announced, finding Avery's name and another signed next to it.

 _Megan Lowe._

Peter looked over his shoulder and stared down at the book – Megan Lowe, he remembered that girl. He still didn't know what kind of a connection she had with Avery but he knew very well that the younger girl was greatly cared for. It's how he was able to finally catch his sister and lock her away. He had to use that connection to his advantage.

Thompson looked over too, but he didn't recognise the name, "Megan Lowe?" He questioned, "You know her?" Looking over to the FBI agent.

Peter sighed, nodding his head, "Yeah." He replied, "I do."

…

The black and white video of Megan last coming to visit was now up on the screen in front of the three men – they watched as a long-haired brunette around the age of 22 talk to Avery but she didn't look happy. She almost looked sad. The video was silent and no voices appeared out of the speaker, only a video to watch and interpret.

"No audio?" Peter questioned, hating the silence.

Haskley paced behind him, "No." He answered, stripping his jacket off before flinging it over his desk chair. They were currently in his office watching the tape – the base station for everything that goes on in this prison he wardens.

Thompson got curious, he was flipping through week after week of the visitor log. "This girl comes back week after week." He exclaimed, a little surprised, "Two times a week in fact, almost at the same exact same time and day."

Peter was actually the first to recognise that the girl in the video wasn't looking too happy this time about the visit. "She's not thrilled about this visit." The brunette kept shaking her head, glancing over her shoulder towards the exit door. Thompson and Haskley stood behind the Agent, watching as the scene unfolded.

The brunette, Megan, finally stood up from her chair hastily while she spoke again towards Ava. Avery was still sitting down, but her head shook slowly, almost as if there could be disbelief running off her in waves.

Thompson glanced over to Haskley, "How soon can we get a lip-reader in here?"

"I'll save you the trouble." Peter butted in, already having a bit of experience in the trade. It wasn't exactly hard and he's had to do it a few times before in the past. He squinted his eyes towards the screen, beginning to read off Megan's lips the best he could. "Adios Ava … it's been real."

Peter couldn't tear his eyes from the screen, there was something that made him pause but he didn't exactly know why. Looking closely at Megan – she looked terribly similar to Avery in a way. Mostly in the face. "Did she come back the next week?"

Thompson shook his head, "No, she never came back again after this." He said almost sadly. The two women obviously had a good relationship going, no matter what it was. Avery in the video stood up sharply in almost a panicked way when Megan quickly walked away – they could see the blonde calling out for the girl to stop. But she didn't – Megan just left the building and for the last time too.

"Alright." A game plan formed in Peter's head – he's gonna have to do the same as he did last time. Find Megan in order to find Ava. "Let's find Megan."

…

In an abandoned apartment, on the third floor, Ava sat against a post that kept the ceiling where it was. The apartment that she was in had been completely emptied and there was no piece of furniture or life in sight. It was empty and completely dead inside, much like how Ava was feeling right about now. Her head was leaning back against the post, her hands grasping around an 1891 _Bordeaux_ bottle of wine, an empty one.

It took her only a few hours to find this place; the apartment Megan had been living in for the past few years after her capture. It was a good size and was perfect for a young adult like her – Ava was proud to say that Megan was a quick learner when it came to the trade. Initially, she hadn't wanted the younger girl to follow in her footsteps but Megan wanted to – the brunette wanted to stay with Ava rather than go back to where she used to be.

Ava could vaguely hear footsteps entering the apartment but she didn't bother to turn around, she had a feeling as to whom it might actually be. "I see Megan moved out." The familiar voice called out to her, the footsteps moving closer before making a stop.

Ava couldn't help but let a quirk on her lips form, it's been a while since she's heard that voice. And of course, she knew he'd find her eventually, especially if she sat here all day and waited. She stayed silent, so he continued, "She leave you a message in that?" Referring to the bottle in her hands. Only half her body could be seen from the front door where Peter walked in from but he could easily see the bottle.

Avery looked numbly at the bottle, "The bottle _is_ the message." She replied after a moment, a sadness in her tone. She couldn't seem to figure out the true message from this bottle and only one conclusion has sprung to mind – one that she didn't want to accept. One that she couldn't. She's been sitting in this apartment for well over an hour now and still _nothing_. All she could think was that Megan's words to her may be true all those weeks ago – she may have actually parted this time, for good.

Peter let a small smile lift on his face, it's been almost four years since seeing his sister and it felt really nice to hear her voice again, to see her again. Even if he was there to once again take her into custody – giving her another four-year sentence for her boneheaded escape. "It's been a while."

Ava hummed, nodding her head a little, her eyes still locked onto the bottle in her hands. "It has, hasn't it?" She replied, "More than a few years at least." It didn't hurt a little that he never came to visit her but she did get the occasional card on her birthday and a phone call or two.

Peter had to ask, "Are you carrying?" Although, he already knew the answer to that question. It was kind of stupid to ask at this point.

Avery rolled her eyes, "Oh, come on." She sighed, "You know I hate guns and besides, you know I wouldn't shoot _you_." It was true, she's been shot once or twice in the past – not that many people actually knew that of course. Once bullet went clean through and another just grazed her leg.

Peter started moving forwards again, walking around to the side so he can get a full frontal view of his sister. "They've asked me _'What makes a girl like you pull a boneheaded escape with only four months to go?'_ " He really wanted to figure it out as well and he knew there was something about Megan that he didn't quite know yet. He was aching to know the answer to that question. They could just be best friends but it felt like it was more than that.

A humourless smile reached onto her lips, " _You_ figured it out pretty quickly." She applauded lightly.

By this time, Peter was now in front of her, taking in what Avery now looked like. Her hair was indeed dark from roots to ends and obviously, she looked a bit older than when she first went into the cell. He had to say, dark hair actually suited her but the blonde worked better with her eyes. "So, who is Megan?" He finally asked a question that's been bugging him for a while. "Really?"

Ava bit her lip, not wanting to tell him who Megan really was to her (for safety and privacy reasons) but she could feel his eyes staring at her, waiting for an answer – she knew he wouldn't stop inquiring. Finally, she just sighed, giving in, "Megan's my sister, Peter." She revealed, finally looking up to him with a seriousness in her eyes.

Peter looked take aback, "Huh?" He murmured, wondering if he heard right. He knew, obviously, that Avery had been adopted into the family when she was eleven. He had been old enough to remember enough detail. Was that why she left the moment she turned 18? To find her real family?

"She's my _blood_ sister – my little sister." She let out a breath, finally putting the bottle onto the wooden floor, the tap echoing throughout the room. She looked up to him. "I missed her by TWO days." That was the frustrating part about all this; she could have escaped last week because she already had everything in place. However, last week had a lot more guards on duty and today there wasn't.

Peter finally startled himself back to reality, getting back to the human conversation. He made a note to really look into this Megan Lowe the moment Avery was back behind bars. "Still, it only took you a few weeks to escape a super-max." He commented, almost sounded proud behind his words, not that he'd admit that out loud. He really shouldn't say something like that given who he was. "It's pretty impressive." He went with instead.

Avery chuckled slightly, she already knew that, "Oh, I know." She boasted lightly, knowing she could be sounding very arrogant at that point.

Another quirk lifted on his lips as Peter raised the walkie-talkie towards his face, speaking into the microphone. "All clear." He said, "Subject identified and unarmed." Another man on the other end acknowledged what he said. Most likely preparing to enter the building with guns and handcuffs.

It was then that the thought finally hit her – there must be other officers with Peter and surrounding the place. He wouldn't have skipped out on the detail to find her by himself. He's too goody for breaking the rules, unlike her must she admit. "We're surrounded aren't we?" Already knowing the answer.

Peter sighed, putting away the radio into his jacket, nodding his head, "Yeah."

"How many?" Ava was just simply curious and besides, she really didn't want to end up being one of those prisoner escapees that gets shot in the head for running, especially if a swat team was outside and waiting.

"Including my agents and the marshals … all of them, I think." Peter noticed her eyes flicker back over to the bottle sitting on the floor, "What's the message?" Knowing by the look forming on her face, it meant that there was one.

Avery just gave him a shrug, "It means ' _Goodbye_ '." … for now … she might be able to figure out another message later on but as for right now, she really couldn't see any alternative.

"Siblings." Peter commented with a feigned annoyed tone, rolling his eyes but there was a smile on his face. "They're a handful." Putting two meanings into his statement.

Avery scoffed, shaking her head. "No kidding." She muttered.

Peter took a good look at his sister before really getting to the point, one that he really didn't want to mention, "You know … we're gonna have to give you another four years for this stunt." Honestly not wanting to but the law's the law. Avery broke it and now she's gonna have to pay the price.

Avery knew she should be bothered about that concept and she was sure that if another person were in her position, they would be begging their brother to not do that to them. But, to be honest, she didn't care about the fact that she's going to be in a cell for another four years. It wasn't all that bad, just very boring about 97% of the time. "I don't care." She murmured, taking another look at the bottle. The whole reason for escaping was to find Megan and that turned out to be a bust. The younger girl left like she said she would – there wasn't any chance of stopping it now.

With a sigh, she looked back over to her brother, about to let him take her in but something amusing finally caught her eye. A laugh just burst out of her, making her feel just a touch better than before.

Peter now looked at her confused, his eyebrows furrowing as she laughed, "What?" Looking a tad defensive.

Avery slowly got up on her feet, fully turned to him as she stood. She eyed the suit with a smile of remembrance, "That's the _same_ suit you wore when you arrested me." She had a good memory.

Peter didn't realise that but he shouldn't be surprised if it were true. He's been wearing the same suits for over five years now. He liked re-using clothing and he hated shopping – he stuck to what he knew in that world. "Mm." He hummed, looking down at himself for a second before slipping his hands into his pockets, "Classics never go out of style."

Suddenly, a little spark of colour immediately caught Avery's eye – she narrowed her eyes to something on his shoulder and laying on it seemed to be a thin strand of something. It looked very familiar. She started to reach over to it but gathered her brother's wary look in the process. After assuring she wasn't going to cause him harm, she grabbed the strand and looked at it carefully. It was red, almost like a wire but too thin to actually be one. It was a balance between the two.

"Do you know what this is?" She asked her brother, curiously raising an eyebrow towards him. She already knew what it was after a careful look – and that's when the idea came to mind, another plan of sorts.

Peter huffed, shaking his head. "No idea." He admitted, not having the faintest idea on what it could be. Not even a room full of Harvard Graduates knew either. "I got it from a case that I was _supposed_ to be working on before they yanked me off to find you." He silently knew he shouldn't be talking about other cases with a felon but didn't really care right now. This Dutchman was in the midst off pulling his hair out with frustration.

Avery had an unusual look on her face, something of which Peter never caught. "Do you think you'll catch him?"

Peter sighed, shaking his head. "Don't know." Let's just say it's not looking very likely right now. "He's good." He complimented the felon, looking up to her while his next sentence was almost a tease, "Maybe as good as _you_."

Ava just smiled, nodding her head to herself, not actually taking that statement in at all. She already knew she was good and this Dutchmen just sounded fascinating if anything. She held up the strand higher towards his face, "What's it worth if I tell you what this is?" Her brother suddenly stared at her, unsure of what her game was. "Is it worth you finally visiting me … just once?"

Peter didn't know what to think, "What are you talking about?"

Now she looked serious. "If I tell you what _this_ is right now-" Gesturing to the strand in her hand, "-will you agree to finally visit me after all these years? One week from today."

The sounds of Agents coming into the apartment could be heard but Avery didn't let that distract her. She hoped her brother would say 'Yes'. The Agents outside were yelling about every room being 'All Clear' and she knew there wasn't much time left until she was taken away again.

It was a second before Peter finally responded, "Okay." He owed her at least several visits anyway.

Inside; Ava breathed a sigh of relief but then held up her end of the bargain. The Agents finally entered the room with guns held at the ready, she spoke quickly. "It's a security fibre for the new Canadian 100-dollar bill." She revealed, passing over the strand.

An Agent swiftly arrested her once again with her hands behind her back, cuffs being placed around her wrists, she gave her brother one last look before they dragged her away. Peter had to watch her get taken away again, but this time, it wasn't him throwing her into a cop car.

"One week, Peter!" Ava called out to him before she vanished, knowing that he would keep up his end of the bargain anyway. He wasn't the type of man to break deals and promises – especially with her.

 **Ah, finally done. Hope you loved it!**

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	3. Pilot - Part 2

**White Collar Fanfic | Threads of Trust | Pilot – Part 2**

"How did you know?" Was the first question that spouted out of Peter's mouth the moment he went to visit his sister in jail. He was standing over to the side of the visiting room, his hands in his pockets while he waited for his answer. Avery, on the other hand, was sitting at one of the benches with her arms crossed on top of the table, looking at him calmly but there was a small smile on her lips. This was the first time he's really visited her in jail – it felt … nice.

The guard over to the side, standing by the door was passive – he was only there if Ava was supposedly going to be out of control. That would never happen of course but it was simply a precaution, one that every prison had to make in order to keep the visitors safe.

"Oh, come on, Pete … I have my ways." Ava starting smiling just a little bit more, but this time, it was more amused than anything. "So, how upset were the Canadians?" Curious but already she could guess the answer, especially when Peter laughed at the question.

"Oh, very." He replied, grinning himself. "Well, as upset as Canadians can get." For a moment, the room just stayed silent, but then the real questions started to begin. After thinking about it – he was sure there was some ulterior motive for her wanting him to actually visit – she's never requested that he come before, even if he should have by himself. "Alright," He sighed, the smile slipping just a little as he walked over to the bench, perching himself into the opposite seat. "So, I agreed to come and visit but I'm sure there's something you wanted to talk about."

Ava nodded just a little, confirming what he had figured out back at the office, during the morning he found out about the real identity to the strand. "I know why you call him the Dutchman." She said, a knowing tone to her voice. She watched as her brother's brows creased, both interested and unsure of where this conversation might be heading. "Like the ghost ship." Her eyes never looked away from his face but she was completely serious in everything she was saying to him. "He disappears whenever you get close."

Peter was silent for a moment before asking, "How do you know anything about him?"

"You know everything in my life – _to a degree_ – and you really didn't think I _wouldn't_ check up on yours?" Of course she checked up on her brother; every day since she left at age 18. Even in prison she still had her ways of finding out information. "You get the birthday cards, don't you?"

"Nice touch."

"You've been after the Dutchman for almost as long as you were after me – as soon as my file was put on your desk." Ava continued, getting to the point of the conversation. "I'll _help you_ catch him." All week she's been thinking about this plan, and the more she thought about it, the more she loved the idea of it.

As soon as she declared that he could help him, Peter quirked an eyebrow, not really convinced on a few concepts, "Really?" Wondering what was truly going through his sister's mind right now. "How does that work? You wanna be prison pen-siblings?" He couldn't seem to work out a viable conclusion that she might be heading for other than getting released. And that is something he cannot do. He honestly wouldn't either – Ava committed her crimes and now she had to pay for them, just like any other criminal has to.

It was only then that Peter noticed the folder in front of his sister, there were a few sheets of paper in a brown file folder. Ava pushed it forwards in front of him, opening up the file. Curiously, Peter glanced down at them, his eyes digging into the sheets a little further. "You can get me out of here." She told him with a little detectable hope in her voice, tapping the folder in front of him to prove her thesis. She watched briefly as he began flicking through the sheets, "There's case law … precedent … and I can be released into _your_ custody."

"Except it wouldn't work." Peter placed the documents back onto the table, looking up at her with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Because you're right, I DO know you." He replied, "And despite what you may say now – as soon as you're out, you'll take off and go looking for Megan."

Ava knew this would be the tricky part. Yes, every fibre of her being was telling her that the moment she leaves this place – she should be running off to find her little sister. But, there were other things to consider now. Yes, if Peter agrees with this arrangement and she's able to be free from the confines of a box room twenty-four hours a day, then she could start at least looking properly for Megan. Not on foot and by herself, but again, she had sources.

"Pete, I'm NOT gonna run." Ava said with a strong promise in her eyes. She couldn't jeopardise her brother's career like that. Especially after he's worked so hard in order to get to his position in the first place. She grabbed the other sheet of paper next to her, putting it on top of the folder for him to take a look at. "A GPS tracking anklet – these new ones are tamperproof and they've _never_ been skipped on."

"There's always a first time." Peter quipped back, looking down at the sheet for a moment. He's heard of these devices a lot, obviously because he works in the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, he knew that at some point Ava could figure a way around these things – but even then, that might take a while. Honestly, he really didn't know what to think of the proposition. He needed real time to ponder on the idea before making any snap decisions.

Peter wanted to take down the Dutchman scumbag so badly, almost as much as he wanted to catch Ava. That may sound bad considering she's family and maybe he should have been staying away from the case, letting others fly in circles trying to bring her in. But, he thought that having her pay for her actions would have gotten a change out of her criminal career. Right now, though, prison might have been the worse thing for her. She hasn't seemed to change much at all.

It was just a lot to think about.

Avery could slowly feel the hope draining out of her, "Just … think about it." She pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Ava." Peter told her, putting the papers back together before getting up from the bench, grabbing the file to take with him just in case his mind changed. He patted her shoulder, "It was a nice try." Was the last thing Ava got before he walked out of the visiting room, leaving her alone again.

…

That night at the prison; Avery was just lying on her cell bed, staring at the blank ceiling with lost thoughts running through her head. It was close to midnight by the time the hourly guard came by her cell, just as all the lights were starting to be shut off for the night. A woman in the late stage of her thirty's walked by, "Avery." The woman tapped the bars to gain the younger girl's attention. Avery's light was still on and it was time to turn it all off.

Ava blinked when the voice reached her, her head looked up towards the bars and standing there was probably the only guard that marginally liked her. Melony Jane. The woman just gave her a look, "It's time to turn that light off now." Gesturing over to the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling by one thick wire.

Avery sighed, "Got it, Mel." She sat up on the bed slowly and Melony gave a nod, knowing that she'd do exactly that. Melony continued down the aisle of cells to inform the other inmates about lights out.

Everything in her cell was now completely bare and all that's left is a toilet with a privacy shield, an old bed, a small sink and a wall table. Avery sat up on the bed properly with her legs over the edge and just stared towards the single wall that suddenly felt so depressing. The row after row of five stick days lined up one after another. All the counted days of being in this place, there were so many of them.

Today had been bust because on some level, she really thought Peter would come through and almost like the idea. But, no. From what she could tell – it was a 70/30 shot of a chance and right now, she was the minority vote. There was nothing she could do in this place and it was slowly driving her insane.

Just as the felt tip rose again to draw yet another day-stick onto the wall, her hand paused over the wall and suddenly, all the frustration, anger and grief just started rippling out of her. She didn't really know what was going on until it happened but the pen scratched all over the markings in an almost furious manner, knocking out the lightbulb at the same time with a shatter. When her mind grabbed a hold of itself again – she was breathing heavily, feeling completely and utterly alone for the first time in a long while.

' _Shut it, bitch!'_ Another inmate shouted from down the hallway but Ava paid no attention to it. Instead, she turned around to the clean wall above her bed and pushed herself back into the routine of counting down the days she had left. The pen marked the first stick of another 1460 days in this cell.

 _Boy, this is going to be hell…_

…

At the Burke's place of residence, in the middle of the night, Peter was sitting at his dining room table with scattered papers and files across from him. He had his head resting against his hand, completely lost in thought about how today had gone at the prison. He would say that he wasn't completely surprised about the deal she wanted to make, it seemed quite like her, but he couldn't help but wonder what the ulterior purpose was. There was always an ulterior motive to her, even when she was a kid.

Peter sighed, leaning forwards so his elbows connected with the table. He picked up the recent birthday card he received in the mail – it had a small cupcake on it with a few balloons blown up in the background. Inside was written by Ava, wishing him a happy birthday, even if she had been in prison at the time. Every year he had gotten one and it made him feel guilty that he hasn't really tried anything in return. Sure, he'd wish her a happy birthday and the occasional present, but his work life was so hectic that he literally forgets about the most important things in life.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth had already watched the experience for herself. He's forgotten multiple times on several important occasions they had planned or that were coming up. He really was a terrible brother and husband at times if you think about it.

Elizabeth, a slightly shorter woman with long brown hair suddenly appeared in the room wearing only a large dress shirt of her husbands, slippers on her feet as she padded over to him in a tired fashion. Peter didn't realize her heading over to him until she spoke, "Coming to bed tonight?" She asked, smiling a little when she noticed a familiar look plastered on his face. The same one that told her he was thinking very deeply about something.

Peter's head snapped up the moment her voice pushed through to his consciousness and he turned to look at her when she came over, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind, hugging his back as she gazed down at the work left on the table.

Peter was obviously still very distracted but was able to mumble out a ' _Yeah_ ' in response.

"Hmm." Elizabeth hummed, nodding her head as it rested on his shoulder, her body bent over just a little, "What's wrong?" Hoping she could help, never being able to really sleep unless her husband was laying next to her in bed.

"Nothing." Peter replied although, this was definitely not nothing.

Elizabeth's eyes gazed over the papers to see a picture of Avery beside a few past birthday cards. She sighed at the realization. "Oh, no." She started lightly, smiling just a little more. "Don't tell me it's Avery Daniels again." She knew all about Avery from what Peter had told her, even the fact that the blonde had been the adopted sister before disappearing at age 18. So far, Elizabeth still hasn't had the chance of meeting this woman yet.

She let go of her husband, sitting beside him at the table. She couldn't help but tease, "I've been competing with her for three years." Not bothered at all in all honesty.

Peter was silent for a moment, "She'd be out today." He murmured, thinking really hard about this offer. Every part of him wanted to take it, not just because Avery was his sister and he had a lot to pretty much make up for, but there was always going to be this nagging feeling in his gut on whether she'd do something behind his back. Because again, they haven't been close in many, many years.

"You're thinking about her offer?" Elizabeth guessed by the look on his face. She knew there could be a lot riding on this and whether or not to release Avery was a big decision. She smiled, "Of course you are because otherwise you'd be in bed with me." A slight grin rose upon his lips, "Can she help you find him?" Referring to the Dutchman.

Peter sighed, taking a moment to think, "Ava's smart." He complimented his sister, glancing over to his wife, "And, you know how much I like smart."

Oh, she very much does. "Is she as smart as those Ivy League coeds they throw at you?"

Peter looked at her with love brimming in his eyes, his lips widening, "She's almost as brilliant as the woman I married." Knowing that answer would bring him some brownie points later on.

Elizabeth always loved answers like that, "Oh, good answer." She applauded with happiness in her voice. This time, she sighed, the happy look still on her face but the curiosity was evidently sinking in at this point, "So, what's the problem?"

Peter ran a hand through his hand, frustrated that he couldn't come up with a simple decision, "It's just – this isn't the way it's supposed to go." He began. "You get caught … you do your time." A system in which he's believed in since day 1 of the job. There was a pause. "There's more to this than some broken sister bond – there must be some side angle she's playing here."

Elizabeth frowned, "Sister?" Not having heard that one before.

It took Peter a second to realize that he hadn't told her that piece of newly found evidence yet. "Oh, right, um, apparently Megan Lowe's actually her little sister, her _blood_ sister."

Elizabeth blinked in surprise, "She found her biological family?" Remembering the name Megan Lowe but wasn't bothered by the fact that he forgot to tell her. It sounds like he's only just found out himself.

Peter shrugged, "Not really sure – she didn't say anything about anyone else. I didn't ask actually … only who Megan was to her."

"Okay." Elizabeth begins again, trying to help her husband come to the final decision on what he was going to do. "So, your suggesting that Ava escapes a maximum-security prison knowing full well that you'd catch her ... just so that she could trick you into letting her out again?" Knowing how his brain worked but obviously, there was some skepticism in her tone.

It did sound a little stupid when you say it out loud – but it was a completely plausible scenario when it came to Avery Daniels. "It's a working theory." He only said.

Elizabeth didn't believe it though because she gave him a small look of confusion, "If Megan is blood family and Ava loves her, is it so hard for you to believe that your sister might have just done it for the sake of family?" She couldn't help but sympathize for Ava.

"Ava just bought herself four more years in prison … for what?"

"For what?" She repeated, looking to him with meaning in her eyes. "If you were Ava … you wouldn't have run for me?" Knowing that he loved her with all his heart and besides, they were family.

She stumped him – he was unable to form words at that point. Of course he would run for her and he would do it for as long as it took. He would also go to any length he could to get her back too.

And with those words in mind; the decision was made.

…

Avery let out a deep breath, taking a step out of the facility that been keeping her hostage for nearly four years. The solid steel door fully opened, revealing Peter standing a few meters away by his car, waiting for her to be brought out. The guard behind her glanced over warily but said nothing, watching as the latest escapee and captured felon be released into the hands of the FBI.

Ava was wearing a black cotton jacket with buttons and a white tank top underneath, a pair of joggers and some plain gym shoes on her feet. She was basically wearing lost and found stuff that past prisoners forgot to take with them; they didn't fit her style but it would have to do for now. At this moment, she was just happy that Peter was going to give her a chance.

"Let me see it." Peter stopped her before she came any closer. He had made the point that the ankle device was a must, and so she should be wearing it right now.

Ava bent down slightly and raised the left pants leg, revealing a grey device strapped to her ankle, a little green light blinking away from it. When she looked back up at him, he continued, "You understand how this works?" Making sure she knew the consequences of any actions she may think of doing during her time out of the cell.

Avery nodded, starting to walk over to him, her hands slipping into the jacket pockets, "I'm released into the custody of the FBI under your supervision-" She repeated, remembering the words from the document she had to sign just an hour ago. "-and to let this thing be chained to my leg. Am I missing anything?"

By this time, Ava had reached her brother who was now leaning against the bonnet of his car.

"Yeah." Peter replied, there was one detail that might not have been mentioned to her. Although, it was pretty obvious to begin with. "If you run and I catch you … which you know I will because I'm 2-and-0 … you're not back here for four years … you back here for _life_." The only thing that Peter was concerned about was the fact that she could ruin her really good chance at a life, he didn't want her to screw it up. "You're gonna be tempted to look for Megan … _don't_."

"Peter, I already told you." Ava sighed, shaking her head, "The bottle was a goodbye." She still hadn't figured out the hidden message yet and it's been plaguing her every second of the day.

"Good." Peter nodded, acceptable. "Then leave it at that. Now, at this point - what's happening here is a temporary situation." He started to explain, "However, help me catch the Dutchman and we can make it permanent." His bosses wanted to make sure that she really would help with the case and it wasn't just some whim that she came across that information. They've clearly said that if Avery Daniels can help put this Dutchman case to rest – there could be a future for her in becoming a Criminal Informant for the FBI.

"Got it." Ava nodded, understanding, knowing they'd technically want to test her out first. Peter heaved himself off the bonnet, starting to walk towards the driver's side of the car, "So, where are we heading?" She asked, moving towards the passengers side herself.

"Your new home." Was all that he said before getting into the car.

…

' _You have gotta be kidding me!_ ' Was the only thing that ran through Ava's head in disbelief the moment she saw the place she'll be living in. This wasn't a good feeling either, the FBI was placing her in a hotel that looked known for the dirty business in town. The place was a wreck, dirty and she was sure parts of the building were ready to fall down. Really? That's what she deserved? Ava knew she hadn't exactly been a model citizen of New York but … seriously? Wasn't being chained to a little device that tells everyone where she is enough?

Peter walked up to the guy at the room key desk; a very large and overweight man in his mid-forties was sitting there, eating away that would fatten himself up even more. There were a few other people in the room that looked to be just lounging around; one woman, in particular, looked like a stereotypical hooker, her breasts were practically hanging out of her blouse as she sent Peter an interested look. He either blatantly ignored her or just didn't realise what the woman was trying to initiate.

"This is Avery Daniels." Peter introduced his sister to the manager of the establishment. He didn't like this place at all but it's all the bureau could give money-wise and being in New York, prices weren't exactly cheap in this city. "My office called earlier."

The man chewed, nodding in remembrance before reaching behind him, grabbing a set of keys with a plastic blue leaf attached. The number 243 engraved on it. He turned back around, holding out the keys towards Ava, waiting for her to take them off him, "Here you go, Sweetcheeks."

Avery had a fake smile on her face but accepted them, "Thank you." She could feel the man's eyes gazing at her just a little too long so she turned to Peter with a hand on his shoulder, whispering discreetly, " _Can I talk to you."_

They walked over to the side, away from the desk and it took a couple of seconds to move away from people overhearing. Ava was about to open her mouth but then both she and Peter jumped at a sudden noise that came from the desk they were just at, the man had a table tennis racket in his hand, looking as though he was trying to smite a bug on the table.

After a second, Ava turned back to her brother, "Do I seriously have to stay here?" She questioned.

"Look, I'm sorry, Av." Peter apologized, shaking his head with a shrug, "It costs 700 a month to house you in a cell so you'll only be able to get 700 to find a place outside a cell. For the money, this is as good as it gets, and trust me, this is better than the other places I've seen."

In all honestly, Ava would rather take the cell than this place, and that's saying something. "If I find something better for the same price – can I take it?" The idea suddenly popped into her head. Not that she actually had a place in mind but she was sure there had to be a better establishment than this dump.

"Sure." Peter replied, not finding any harm in that.

"And what about clothes?" Ava continued, looking down at the horrible sense of clothing she had on right now. Nothing matched and to be honest, they were beginning to itch uncomfortably. "I'm wearing my entire wardrobe."

"Thrift stores." Was his only answer. "There's one at the end of the block." He could tell Ava didn't particularly like that answer but she'll just have to live with it. He pointed down to her anklet, "Listen, your tracking anklet is set up so that you can go anywhere within two miles of this place and here-" He passed over some very thick files, dumping them in her arms, "-is your homework."

"Now remember – _two miles_. I'll see you at 7am." Was the last thing Peter told her before leaving the hotel, needing to get to work. Ava was going to get a day to herself before the real work began and she should have read all the files by tomorrow morning when he comes to pick her up.

…

In the end, Ava did exactly what her brother suggested, she ended up taking a trip down to the thrift store just a block away. It was a pretty big one but there were so many clothes that she wouldn't wear at all, they were just plain right embarrassing to even be seen with. There's only a certain style that she'd always wear and she saw nothing of the sort _anywhere_ along these racks of clothes. After flicking through them probably five times, she was stumped with nothing in her hands.

It was when her head momentarily turned towards the door that she noticed a particular woman walking in, one who didn't fit the type who needed clothes from a thrift store. She looked positively well groomed and dressed, as though she was from a family of wealth. The woman was African American if Ava was correct and she looked like a very nice lady from the way she acted. And, as expected, the woman placed a black clothes bag onto the counter in front of the clerk, letting the thrift store owner see. "I've come to donate these."

"Women's clothing." Ava clearly heard the clerk mumble and she got a glimpse of hope, they looked like clothes she'd wear. A spark flickered in her eye the moment she noticed the fedora hat being brought out; it must be her lucky day.

"Those are amazing." Avery complimented with a large smile on her face, slowly having walked up to the two women.

The woman donating them turned to her with a sad smile, "They are aren't they? They belonged to my daughter, Alicia. She passed away many years back, along with my late husband, Byron. The pair of them really had great taste in clothing."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Ava apologized for the loss the woman's had to deal with, only able to imagine what kind of pain she must have gone through during that rough time. She gestured over to a piece of clothing the clerk had just put on a hanger, "May I?" She asked. The clerk handed what she had seen over and it was an amazing black blazer that looked relatively new. Excitement ran through her when she held it, and when she looked at the tag closely, her eyes widened in shock, "This is a Monee Marcus – the female partner from the Devore line."

"Yes, it is." The woman was pleasantly surprised about the young woman's knowledge and it was a pleasure to see how much she seemed to like the clothing items. Taking a good look at her; June could sense that she had a rough life but there was that spark of longing for a freedom she had seen in Bryon's eyes long ago. "Bryon actually won it for Alicia from Sy Devore himself."

Ava was in pure shock, "Won it?"

June grinned with a chuckle, "He beat him at a backdoor draw."

"What?" She definitely liked this woman, "Your husband played poker with _the_ Sy Devore?"

"He certainly did." June confirmed, but then leaned closer, as if she were revealing a secret, "And so did I."

"No way." Ava couldn't believe her but all she found was honesty in her words.

"Yes." The woman continued as Ava began taking off the jacket that was given to her back in the prison, wanting to try on this blazer so badly. "The guys would even let me sit in once in a while on a hand … and I was good." The first thing that Ava had taken notice of was the fedora hat. So, before putting on the jacket, she picked up the fedora and put it on her head – doing a small twisty move many used to do in the olden days. She knew it was a hat for a man, but she didn't care, she loved hats like this.

June watched with contentment when she really noticed how happy this young woman was with the hat and just the clothes she had brought in. Today had been a good day for choosing to give away some of the clothing she should have given away a long time ago. "I'm glad to see you appreciate these. I was hoping someone would and I've got a whole closet full of them." Referring to all the types of clothing she's brought in today.

The shocks just kept on coming.

"A whole closet?" Ava repeated, blinking in disbelief.

"Mm-mm." June mumbled with a nod, "Well, actually, it's a guest room but I haven't used it for anything except storage for years." Avery listened on while beginning to put on the Monee Marcus blazer over her white tank top, and it fit _perfectly_. Almost as if it were made for her specifically.

Memories for June started flooding back the moment Ava slipped comfortably into that blazer. "Oh, Alicia used to love wearing that one whenever we'd go out for dinner every Friday." Ava loved the fit of the blazer and she would definitely love to take it if it was being offered. She slipped her hands into her pants pockets, looking back up at the woman as she continued speaking. "The neighbourhood was … let's just say it was much nicer back then."

A little hope popped into Ava's heart the moment she mentioned the neighborhood. "You live nearby?" She inquired, remembering that the woman also said about a guest room. It was a long shot but anything was better than the dump her brother left her in just down the street. She wouldn't mind doing extra things to earn her keep too.

A small but curious smile started to rise onto June's lips, "Not far."

Avery shifted a little hesitantly but pushed herself to ask, "I'm actually looking for a place to stay; I can pay 700 a month but if there's anything you needed someone to do, I can do it and I'm a great houseguest. It's like you'll never know I'm there."

June pondered on the offer for a second but then made her decision, nodding. "I think it would be nice to have another person in the house after all these years." She didn't feel threatened by Avery at all and the young woman gave no indication of an ulterior motive. Byron was a felon – he taught her everything she needed to know about the other world of crime. Besides, the woman looks like she needed a home.

Avery looked very relieved, reaching out her arm in order to shake the woman's hand, "I'm Avery Daniels." She introduced herself politely, smiling with almost a beam on the edge of her cheeks.

"June Ellington." June shook her hand, excited that she's actually going to have someone else in the house other than her maid. Her granddaughter only came to visit during breaks in her schooling; she lived in a residence far across town but does call every couple of days. It gets quite lonely in a house as big as hers and it would be nice to share the place with someone else again.

 **Note: I am so glad I was able to get this finished before my Microsoft Word subscription ran out. I'll be getting a new one either tomorrow night or Wednesday. I'm heading back to the parents' tomorrow morning for two weeks now that Semester 1 is over with. But with the weather outside, I'm dreading tomorrow morning for sure.**

 **IMPORTANT –** The clothing that Avery will wear will be up on my Polyvore. I'm just putting up one, but she'll be wearing variations of what I have made. Her clothing will pretty much stay the same. Code – 'Avery Daniels – Threads of Trust'. My username for the site is 'x-lisa-anne-x'

 **Fav, Follow and Review!**


	4. Pilot - Part 3

**CLOTHING REMINDER –** _ **Read the last chapter's note. The clothing that Ava wears is up on my Polyvore profile!**_

 **ALSO –** _Near the end of this chapter you might get a little confused. I'll explain in the end-of-chapter note._

 **White Collar Fanfic | Threads of Trust | Pilot – Part 3**

The next morning came along quickly and in no time, Peter found himself at the Motel he had left Avery at yesterday. A styrofoam cup of coffee in hand brewed from a café just down the street. He walked up to the man he talked to yesterday, the large man who was again, eating away at his weight. "Hey," He shortly greeted, "I'm looking for Avery Daniels. Room 243." Assuming the man would just call up to the room and let her know he had arrived to pick her up.

It took a moment for the man to even register what was said, "Oh … oh, yeah." His body jumped up in the seat with remembrance, swallowing the last of his mouthful. "Sweetcheeks." Remembering the gorgeous brunette that the man left here yesterday. He twisted around to the small cubby hole where the room key was, sitting there after the woman had given it back - he grabbed the small slip of paper that was given along with it. He was instructed to give it to the Fed the moment he arrived to come and collect her.

"A nice gal she was. Left you a note too." The man continued before turning back around, giving the note over to the Fed.

Peter had paused at first before accepting the piece of paper, opening it up to reveal the words inside. The hotel manager began playing with a Rubix cube as he read what Ava had left him.

 _Dear Peter,_

 _I have moved 1.6 miles._

 _86 Riverside Drive_

 _XoXo_

 _Avery_

Although Peter completely remembered saying to her that if another place was found, she could take it for the same amount of money, but he couldn't help but sigh in frustration. Peter shook his head before mumbling thanks to the Manager, walking out of the Motel and towards his car.

He had a sister to find.

…

It didn't take long to find the new residence that Ava was apparently living at. The words, ' _You've gotta be kidding me_.' Running around in his head were the only ones that were able to slip out of his mouth. The place he had found with the same address was pretty much a town-side mansion; a place where many of the richest of New York would live. It was a three-story building made out of white stone and it was clear that it wasn't an apartment setting, more of a home one.

From the moment he rang the loud dong of the doorbell, he couldn't help but feel significantly small, surely Ava wasn't _actually_ living here? He was standing outside a large glass door with decorative black bars attached, little designs featured on them. Along with the bell, he knocked a few times on the outside of the door and soon enough, a traditional looking maid answered the door. She wore the black dress, white hat and other white garments that would make her look like the usual would.

The maid smiled politely at his arrival, a woman in her early fifties and spectacles on the bridge of her nose. "Good day." She said, opening the door enough for him to walk in with an invitation.

"Thank you." Peter responded, doing so but again looked down at the note in his hand, still wondering if he had the right place to begin with. Maybe Ava was just messing with him? As the maid slowly closed the door, he stated out loud, "I think I have the wrong address."

"You must be Peter." Another woman's voice from behind got him to twist around, startled but kept his usual façade up. How did she know his name? The woman walking towards him was a smallish woman with dark skin, her clothing very much as polished as the rest of the house looked. Everywhere inside was almost like an antique show but had a homier feeling than a museum. In her arms was a Pug, being gently scratched at the side of his ear and if he were a cat, he'd be purring with content.

"I'm looking for Avery Daniels." Peter told her, walking forwards.

June just smiled, already knowing who the man was. Avery told her (among other things) last night in order to get to know each other. They were going to be living together from now on so it was a good idea. "She's upstairs."

…

Peter was shown upstairs by the maid and was walked into some kind of guest apartment, and over to the side was a double sided door that led outside. The apartment had its own balcony and view of the city, one that was confirmed the moment he took a step outside. And sitting outside in a lounger was his sister, wearing a pair of pyjamas that consisted of plaid pants and a tank top, a silk gown covering on top. The one main thing he did notice though was her hair, though, it was back to its original colour, well, as much as it could be. It was now a honey colour that shone against the sunlight beaming down from above.

Ava looked up from the newspaper after having finished reading what the latest news was, hearing heavier footsteps heading her way. Ones that weren't either June or Cindy's. "Peter, hey." She smiled. She's probably had the best sleep in months after sleeping in that new bed of hers and she was completely grateful for June taking her in. She glanced at the watch on the small table beside her, "You're early." She noted, seeing the time become 6:47am. Peter was expected to be here at around 7:10am at the latest, given the fact that he had to try and find her new residence. Why was he here so early?

"We're shaking a lead at the airport." Peter told her, knowing how indeed early it was. The morning sun had only risen about half an hour ago in the city of New York. "We got a hit on Snow White."

"Snow White." Ava mumbled to herself, looking through her head to figure out where she had heard that from. She knew it was from the bunch of files that was dumped on her yesterday, she just needed a second to connect the dots. "Ah, right." Her eyes lit up, remembering. "A phrase you decoded from a suspected Dutchman communique to Barcelona." She smiled, folding up the newspaper in her hand before placing it on top of the files.

There was a moment's pause. "You've moved." Peter stated the obvious, still unable to quite grasp the extent towards the place she had moved to.

Ava nodded, looking out towards the skyline city buildings in sight. "Yeah, it's nicer than the other place, don't you think?" She observed her brother for a second, noting briefly the stiff posture he wore along with the frown of uncertainty.

Peter nodded slowly while humming in agreement. He couldn't help it but there was a sense of jealousy and envy, something of which he hated to feel. He'd love to give a view like this to Elizabeth and one for himself but his pay would never give them that, even if he is a well-respected FBI Agent. "Yeah, but I don't remember the other place having a view." He did send wary looks towards her, something of which Ava understood what they meant. He wanted to know how she came to be here – he needed to know she did nothing illegal.

Avery sighed, "I went to the thrift store like you suggested." She began, "And June-" Peter cut her off.

"-The lady with the dog … we met."

Ava gave a nod, annoyed that he cut her off but continued anyway, "-was donating her daughters' clothes. During our conversation of the Monee Marcus clothing line, she mentioned about having an extra guest room. I inquired about becoming a tenant and … here I am." Peter still didn't seem to liven up and she gave him a small look of frustration, "Look, you said that if I found a nicer place for the same price, I should take it. Well, actually I asked and you agreed but the outcome is still the same."

"No, you're right." Peter nodded, remembering back to that conversation. There was nothing wrong with what she did but the one thing he couldn't wrap his head around was the price. This woman only wants 700 a month as a payment? For this view included? "So, all of this … for 700?"

"Yep." Ava considered herself extremely lucky. "And I did offer to help out whenever she needed someone. Things like; wash the jag, feed the dog, watch her granddaughter-"

Peter couldn't help but interrupt on the last one, "She's got you babysitting?" Blinking in surprise.

Suddenly a young woman appeared from behind Peter, walking past him in her nightclothes and a gown. As with June, she was African American but her age was in her very early twenties. "Morning, Ava." Cindy said, walking over to grab the newspaper that was lying on the table. She sat on the other lounger just beside.

"Granddaughter?" Peter questioned, referring to the young woman who had just walked in.

Avery smiled, nodding, "She's an art student." Luckily for her, art was obviously her specialty.

Peter shook his head; he didn't mind the fact that Ava was now out of that Motel. Actually, he would have insisted that she find a better place but this felt just a little too much. She was a felon for crying-out-loud; he would have expected her to find some kind of small apartment to rent with a one bath, one bed kind of thing. But this? It just made his mind turn at all the possibilities that could happen.

"Alright, just go get dressed." He finally insisted, knowing they were on a strict schedule right now and they needed to be at the airport in a vert short amount of time. Ava didn't say anything but did as she told; she gave one last smile over to Cindy before getting up from the lounger, padding towards the guest room wardrobe to get ready for the day. She had a long shower last night so she didn't need one this morning. Besides, she had to wash out the hair dye she used last night. Her hair was now similar to how it was … before her stunt of escape.

As Ava left the balcony, Peter was left alone with June's granddaughter and the word _awkward_ could be thrown around easily within this atmosphere. He slowly sat himself down at the table after making sure it was okay, pouring himself a cup of that coffee that's been tickling at his senses since walking outside. It smelled divine. In a small breadbasket were a few croissants so he picked one up, taking a large bite out of one to fill an empty stomach.

Cindy looked up the moment June walked over, a new pot of coffee in her hand and Bugsy on a leash. June's heels clicked against the ground loudly. "Hey, Grandma." Cindy said, accepting the leash before bringing Bugsy over to her, letting the dog jump up and lie between her legs.

"Good morning, Cindy." June replied, a content smile on her face. She perched herself on the chair opposite Peter, watching as he took a sip from the mug he had just poured. She stared at him, waiting for his reaction to the taste – her coffee was the best in town, and that she knew more than anything. And as expected, the Agent nearly moaned at the taste.

"It's perfect." Peter stated, continuing to chew through the croissant in his mouth. "Even the _freaking_ coffee is perfect." That got a laugh out of June, finding his reaction amusing but also pleasing. He looked up at her, silently wondering if she truly knew who Avery Daniels really was and what she was actually capable off. "That's not jewelry on her ankle, you know." He told her, wanting to make sure the woman knew what she was getting into. "She's a felon."

June just kept the smile on her face, nodding slightly because of course, she already knew all this. It was the first thing Ava told her. She leaned forwards to the Agent before giving him an answer he really didn't expect. "So was Byron."

…

Ava bounced down the stairs to meet Peter by the entrance; now wearing what will be considered her everyday clothing, such as, black skinny pants, a burgundy layered cami, and the Monee Marcus blazer she tried on at the thrift store yesterday. On her feet were a pair of shoes that were a nice balance between heels and running shoes, something of which she used to wear before going to prison as well. Around her neck was a silver cross and her hair was down with natural waves running through it. She adjusted the Fedora on her head with a beam on her lips.

The moment she stepped foot on the ground floor, Peter spoke, "Why are you wearing a hat?" He asked, confused. The clothing she wore wasn't too bad and it was better than the sweats she had on yesterday. Going into the FBI looking how she did when he left her wouldn't have been a very professional thing. This looked much better.

"It's a Fedora." Ava told him slowly, like talking to a child, how could he not know that? "And besides, it goes with my outfit." It really did, she had the perfect balance of colours and it's better now that her hair was blonde again.

"Whatever," Peter waved it off, looking frustrated again, "Let's go." He was about to turn but Ava stopped him, her head tilted with both wonder and confusion. She stood there beside the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You're upset." She noted, looking at him closely. "Why? What have I done now?" It must have been something, but, what was it?

Peter's features became conflicted, "It's not you _necessarily_ …and anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's just go, we have somewhere to be." Ava narrowed her eyes, trying to figure him out. This was different from when she left him on the balcony with June – something about that moment must be getting to him. It couldn't be June or Cindy, so what…

Ava's eyebrows raised in realization, a thought of what might be going through his mind now popping into her own. "Oh…" She drawled, nodding in understanding. "It's the coffee … isn't it?" She inquired, a little tease of a smile on her face. She completely understood because the moment she tasted the stuff, it was almost like heaven melting in her mouth.

"What?" Peter's voice pushed up a notch, confirming what his sister had been thinking. He wasn't being truthful. "No-" He pushed in a way that showed anyone he wanted this conversation to be ended now. "-of course not!" Almost stating in a defensive tone – it was _very_ amusing to watch.

"Fine." Ava conceded, taking the conversation a different route if apparently it wasn't the coffee. "Then tell me which rule I broke and I'll thumb it straight back to prison myself."

"For starters-" Peter started but then his words seemed to get lost in transition, nothing else came out. He closed his mouth, gathering his thoughts, but Ava just smiled, knowing she got him there. There haven't been any rules broken … yet.

Avery adjusted the fedora on her head again, "Look, I'll find out where June buys her coffee-" Peter interrupted her.

"-It's not about the coffee!" He insisted with a snap but his irritation was enough of an answer.

Avery just nodded, not believing him, "I think it is." It was like talking to a five-year-old who didn't want to own up to his mistakes.

"No, it's not." There was a pause in the atmosphere before Peter continued, taking a breath beforehand to calm himself down, now speaking seriously. "This … is what gets you into trouble." He stated, "This is the start of those something-for-nothing schemes that lead to the frauds that got you locked up." He didn't want her to screw up her life again.

Though, he was still trying to redirect the conversation away from the real problem.

Ava did listen but then a thoughtful look crossed her features, "I think it's some sort of … Italian Roast." She stage-whispered to herself, knowing he could hear her quite clearly.

The only way Peter reacted was pointing towards the door, "Get in the car." He scolded like a parent but easily caught the cheeky grin on his sister's lips when she bowed her head, doing exactly as she was told. She was finding this hilarious even if he wasn't.

…

Soon enough, Avery arrived with her brother at the same airport she had stolen that beauty of a car from during her escape. People around them in the airport were either arriving or departing, but they were on their way to the Security office; apparently someone had been flagged while arriving under the Snow White alert. Someone with a possible connection with the art genius they were hunting down.

"Who's that?" She immediately inquired upon seeing a male in his early thirties in a very familiar looking suit and if she were correct, it looked very Rat-Pack. His dark hair was gelled back and had this confidence in him during his stroll up to them, he looked very different from the other FBI Agents she's seen over the years. He looked … unique. But it wasn't just that, he looked … hot.

"That's Neal Caffrey." Her brother answered from beside her, jolting her eyes from the brief ogling. "Both him and another Agent, Diana, are my probie's."

"Probie?" She repeated with a question, hearing the name before but couldn't quite reach the definition in her head. When they approached the new mystery man, she couldn't help but let her lips slip upwards, he really did look good in that suit.

"Probationary Agent." He explained, "The two of them do everything I don't and they're very good at their job." At this point, they were now standing together in a triangle.

Neal was glancing over to Avery curiously but there was a spark of admiration in his eyes, something that no one would detect. "You must be Avery Daniels." His eyes moved up to the hat and a small grin formed on his lips, thinking the same as she had obviously done when choosing to wear it. "A Fedora – good choice."

The smile on Ava's lips grew, "I know." She agreed, liking him very much already. She never noticed the look but Peter was almost smirking to himself like he knew something she didn't. He could tell what might be running through his sister's mind, especially with the way she was looking at Neal.

Peter turned to Neal, getting down to business, "What have we got?" He questioned. Both Neal and Diana arrived about an hour ago so they must have at least something they can work with now that they're here. And he had Ava with him so anything to do with art – she should be able to figure that part out for them.

Neal stopped looking at Ava before producing a file in his hand, handing it over to his boss, "His name's Tony Field." He started, feeling the blonde's gaze on the side of his face, "Customs flagged him coming from Spain in response to our Snow White BOLO."

Peter nodded, liking the information gathered so far but there was still a lot of gaps to fill. "The Customs are playing nice; I hope?"

Neal gave a small chuckle, remembering the distaste on the officers face when he and Diana arrived this morning to start the investigation. "Oh, just the usual chest pounding. Nothing too extreme. However, they have made it strictly clear that he's in their custody – not ours."

Peter didn't really mind that, "Less paperwork for me." He flicked through the file properly that was handed over to him, "What's he carrying that flagged the system?"

A mysterious smile appeared on the young man's face, "You're gonna love this." He stated with an interest in his voice. When he saw what the man was carrying – it was a great mystery to be solved. He loved mysteries and things to solve. He turned around in his spot before walking beside Peter, heading towards the office where the investigation was currently being held in. Ava took a moment before following close behind, looking interested too, especially by the way Neal was reacting to whatever this Tony Field had.

…

Diana already had all three of the suitcases open the moment they walked into the suitcase evidence room; each case holding many thin red and yellow books with the title, ' _BLANCO NIEVES NE AVES SIETE ENANOS'_. Peter read out the title with confusion lacing his voice, not sure what the title is supposed to mean. Avery, on the other hand, knew exactly what he had just said. "It's 'Snow White and Her Seven Little Men'." She told him, Diana and Neal who were all looking at the books up close just as she was.

Peter's brow creased, looking uncertainly at the harmless looking books, " _This_ is what triggered our alert?" Gesturing to the hundreds of books. "What do we know about this guy?"

Diana lifted her head, "Say's he's a rare-book dealer." Having spoken briefly to the man that brought all of these books into the country.

"Anything wrong with his paperwork?"

"No, it's all checked out." Neal answered, this time, glancing momentarily over to Ava who was flipping through the pages of the books with a quizzical eye. "He's brought in the same books and the same amount of them on three prior trips. He's declared them each time before doing so, though."

"All right, Ava." Peter sighed, glancing over his shoulder to his sister, watching her sniff the book oddly. "Are we wasting our time?"

Avery took one last proper look before speaking, "Well, they're not limited runs or special editions so they can't exactly be worth much."

Peter put on a thoughtful look, "So … why go to all the trouble of flying them in?"

"Good question." Ava pointed out, intrigued to know that answer too.

A thought suddenly popped into Diana's mind, "You know, he sure was nervous for having all the right paperwork." Remembering how shifty he acted in the way he moved and how his eyes didn't look calm at all. He looked like a man with a secret – maybe there's something about these books that's more than just the cover?

That seemed to perk Peter's ears right up, "I wanna talk to him." He declared, wanting solid answers to why the guy might be connected to the Dutchman.

"I can go set it up." Neal offered, grabbing the case file from the desk. He started to walk towards the door when he looked back, "Hey, I'm gonna go grab some coffee, you want any?"

"Yeah." Both Diana and Peter said at the same time but Peter was the one to continue, "Anything but decaf."

Ava didn't say anything because she had already had her morning fix from June's delicious brew but she couldn't help but idly watch as he moved out the room. She must have been staring a bit too long because her brother's chuckle was the thing that brought her back to reality, Diana seemed to join him in the amusement. Ava turned to them, looking pleased – Neal Caffrey was one FBI Agent she wanted to get close to.

"You are _way_ out of your league." Peter told her, looking back down at the books one last time before throwing the one he had in his hand back into the suitcase.

That wasn't going to stop her. "It's just harmless staring and the occasional flirt here and there. There's nothing wrong with that." She looked up, sending a grin to her brother and Diana – they turned to her as she spoke, "And besides, it'll be like a dance." She liked dancing.

Diana had heard from Peter that Avery used to attract a lot of male attention when she was a teen – looks like nothings changed there. "Not a dance." She corrected with a little tell-tale grin on her face. "Not for you anyway because you're not even on his dance card."

At this point, Ava was looking between the pair in a confused manner, not understanding what they were trying to say. By the looks of it, they were sending messages silently, like they knew something she didn't. She hated being out of the loop and whatever they were hiding – it looked very amusing to them. "Um, he digs the Fedora." Pointing to her amazing hat.

Here comes the kicker. "Um, he'd rather Steven be wearing the hat." Huh?

Peter chuckled, shaking his head before leaving the room with Diana in tow – leaving Ava standing there in a bewildered stare towards nothing. However, it did take a few seconds to actually realize what they were trying to tell her. "Oh…" She drawled, understanding why they were laughing at her now. "Oh … that is just NOT fair." She moaned in dismay, shaking her own head before heading out towards the way they went.

Why did all the cute ones have to be attracted to the same gender?

…

While Peter was inside the interview room talking with Tony Filed, Ava was over to the side with her arms crossed against her chest, looking towards Diana with a tilted head, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Diana, the woman who basically insinuated that Neal was gay, was laughing a little too hard with another woman – both women acting a little too … friendly.

"She's into other women." A voice from beside her spoke, making her jump a little at the suddenly spoken words. She looked to the side and was surprised to see Neal Caffrey standing here, his hands in his pants pocket, looking over at Diana.

Ava blinked, "Right." Suspicion confirmed. But then the sudden thought came to her, "Hold on, doesn't the FBI have some kind of policy?"

Neal chuckled, shaking his head, "Nah, that's the Military. The FBI don't really get into asking about personal lives. They neither ask nor care as long as the job gets done."

"Soo…" Ava started, looking casual as she went into a slightly personal subject. "…I hear you're actually in the same boat when it comes to relationships…" Referring to what was just said about Diana's choice of loving gender. Part of her just wanted to make sure that the two weren't just pulling her chain back there because of the attraction she seemed to have towards the man.

The sudden smile lifting on Neal's face was enough of an answer than needed to be spoken, "Yeah, and we've been together for nearly two years now."

Well, that hope died down quick.

Before anything else could be said, Peter walked over from behind, looking annoyed – more than usual. "Where's the Customs Inspector?" He questioned. At this point too, Diana walked over to provide some more findings.

"Avery was right." Diana declared, looking over to the blonde for a second, "The books aren't worth much." She got someone from the office to properly look up the book just in case. "You can pick them up for a few dollars on eBay."

The Customs Inspector that Diana and Neal spoke to when Tony Field was brought in started walking towards them. Peter noticed, becoming increasingly irritated when the man finally got close enough to hear, "Hey, why didn't you tell me the guy lawyered up?" He said, "The second he makes that call, I can't talk to him."

The Inspector frowned, looking confused, "He didn't call anybody." He insisted, sure of the answer.

"Then how did his lawyer know that-?" Peter's word drowned themselves out, a thought coming to mind, a very horrible one. And with one look of being horrified, he took off towards the room he left the man in with his lawyer, four pairs of feet running after him at the same rushed pace.

The sight in that room was one that Peter had dreaded the moment the realization hit him – Tony Field's head was lying on the table, his body bent over in the seat and stuck in his neck was a thin needle still punctured in the skin. The Inspector was the one to rush for a doctor but everyone else knew it might not be any good; whoever that lawyer was wanted this man dead and he wouldn't have taken the chance that the man could survive.

"Nobody frisked the lawyer?!" Peter yelled out towards the crack Security team – now they had no solid lead to the Dutchman … again. "Damn it!"

 _Well, this may make things a lot harder…_

 **NOTE: Well, I was going to have this chapter go all the way to Mozzie's first scene but I'm gonna stop it here instead. And as promised, I will explain why I have Neal gay right now. Actually, I can't really explain it but I can say that it WILL be a Neal/OC eventual. It'll be a slow love building story – one that starts off with friendship and eventually grows into something** _ **more**_ **.**

 **Fav, Follow and Review!**


	5. Pilot - Part 4

**It's been a while, but let me know what you think?!**

 **White Collar Fanfic | Threads of Trust | Pilot – Part 4**

Soon after the paramedics declared the detainee was deceased; Peter, Diana, Neal and Ava went back to the books in order to figure out the clue to why this man might have been killed. They hadn't been able to get anything out of him before the man claiming to be his lawyer showed up, it was a real inconvenience. Over to the side, Ava was eyeing the books closely with a thin metal ruler in her hand. The devious criminal part of her mind tapped into her senses to try and figure out what made these books worth so much to the Dutchman. The other three were sifting through the books themselves but not one of them had the type of expertise that Avery Daniels had.

"So, we've got a dead book dealer, a killer lawyer, and a bunch of worthless books," Peter muttered with irritation after another five minutes of staring at a damn book that felt as useless as it looked. He was really beginning to hate the existence of these objects at this point. Why were these books so damn important?

"All right," Peter continued with a small huff, throwing the book he had in his hand back into its original travel case. He looked over to his sister, hoping she's made at least some progress. "As a _reformed_ professional counterfeiter - what is the Dutchman's interest in these?" Putting emphasis on the word 'reformed' because she better be.

At this point, Ava was peering down at a specific part of the book which was just inside the front cover and close to the lining. Her eyes narrowed, reading the date, "Published 1944 in Madrid." She murmured to herself but it was loud enough for the others to hear. She was bending over the table, getting her eyes up and close to this single part of the book.

There was a little nick in her brain telling her something – that this was meaningful in some way, shape or form. It felt important. Her eyes flicked to the rim lining of the inside cover and a small flaking on the edge caught her eye. Some of the glue that usually held the page down was peeling off just a touch. But that was all she needed to confirm what her mind had originally been telling her.

"This." She stated out loud without a second thought. She tapped the ruler against the inside of the book, gesturing to what she was talking about. "This is what he's after."

The three looked over and zeroed in on the sheet of paper she was referring to. Only Peter was the one to ask for some clarification on her findings, "The top sheet?" He wondered but was confused at the same time. He was mostly interested as to why she might think that this specific finding might be worth the while for them to follow up on.

Ava just lets out a small grin as she turned her head up towards him for a second. Looking back down, she carefully used the ruler to skin the book of the top sheet she needed. "It's more than that." She told him with a shake of her head. "This is a piece of _1944 Spanish press parchment_." A small noise of paper detaching from old glue was the only thing that told Ava the page was now taken from the book. Standing up and straightening her back, she turned towards the others and held the piece of paper up for them to clearly see. The sheet looked darker than any other piece of paper, and a little bigger than the usual batches, but there was a special use for something like this. They now just needed to find out what that purpose was.

"That's what he wanted." Peter smiled, seeing his sister being of great use after all. He definitely knew the right choice had been made after all in bringing her in on the case. He just really hoped she wouldn't go off and screw up the opportunity. It was an amazing deal she had received, after all. "This is very good." Coming up to stop in front of her on the other side of the table.

Diana was quickly catching along with what the others were probably thinking, "He's gonna counterfeit something originally printed on paper like that." Coming up beside her boss, looking at the sheet closer like he was.

Ava nodded, confirming what the Agent was thinking, "That's what I would do." She honestly said with a shrug to her shoulders. That's something she would have loved to do. She had _allegedly_ done so many times in the past but it wasn't ever on this particular paper, of course. She'd know what the plan would have been then.

Peter took the specialized sheet from his sister's hand. Looking at it closer for himself and even feeling what it felt like to the touch. Something else did come to mind, though, there were a lot of these sheets within 300 books and more. That a lot of them. What could someone possibly do with all these sheets for a vast amount of money?

Neal was the one to speak out his thoughts, "So far he's gotten through customs with three shipments of these books. If all the books have those exact same sheets inside, that's going to be a lot of paper for them to use."

Ava leaned herself against the table, crossing her arms as she started her thinking pattern once again, going into the mind of a forger. "Two blank pages per book is 600 sheets and that's just _this_ shipment alone."

Peter shook his head as he tried to think too, "That's too many for paintings." He stated. If someone was to be replicating paintings, then they would obviously be found out to be fake in no time. No expensive painting comes out in thousands of renditions. Paintings being replicated are almost always a one of a kind. "Not enough for currency either." There had to be a lot more sheets for it to be money and this didn't feel like the right paper to get the job done correctly. Again, the fakes would be found in no time.

"What about the dead book dealer – he probably knew what was going on." Neal suddenly wondered out loud with an open thought. It would explain why the man had been acting a little on edge when airport security brought him over to the side. Apparently, he had been acting even more anxious when he was being questioned, more than usual, about the details of these books and more.

Peter's eyes lit up with an idea. He glanced over to hiss Probie with an ecstatic point to his finger. "I bet he did too." He grinned, seeing the logic Neal was thinking towards. "Where's that wallet he had on him?" He looked around the table to see if it was there, but it wasn't in plain sight.

"Right here," Diana said, grabbing one of the see-through baggies that were being used to contain evidence. Inside was a brown leather wallet that looked worn out but was still highly useable. She quickly took it out and handed it over to her boss.

The others began observing Peter as he sieved through the pockets of the dead man's wallet. He was rummaging through each and every pocket thoroughly for something in particular. He was being watched with curiousness but there was also hope in their eyes. They wanted to see if anything could be found, hoping that the theory he was thinking was correct.

They basically needed a new clue at this point, there was nothing else left to follow up as of right this moment.

Peter halted in his actions when he noticed something, in particular, inside the second to last pocket he picked through. It was a recognizable piece of paper that he's seen more than a few times before. It was a visitor ticket to _'The National Archives'._ It had the name Tony Field on it – their victim/accomplice. He took the card out of the wallet and threw it down flat on the table, right in front of the other three, showing them what he had found. The card itself looked more than a couple days old and considering everything else he had seen in that wallet, this seemed like the most solid lead they had.

" _This_ is where he went before he left for Spain."

…

About an hour later; Peter Burke and Avery Daniels showed up at _The National Achieves_ museum intent of getting some answers. At first, they were met by one of the tour guides to the museum but after a couple of extra minutes, someone else came to replace the lady that had been entertaining them.

The man was fairly tall with scruffy gray hair on his head. He looked above his fifties but still looked young enough to work for another thirty. He wore a brownish gray tweed jacket with a nearly identical colored matching bowtie. He wore a pair of white dustless silk gloves as he carried one of the museum's most prized artifacts.

"Oh yes, I think I do remember him after all." Marty Manning, the caretaker, corrected his original statement, placing the item on the table in front of them. He glanced over the spectacles on his face while his mouth was forming a curious frown. "He came by several months ago, and then again last week." He took a step back from the item and stood next to the Agent. The woman stood to the side, Avery, he believed she was called.

They were currently standing in one of the great study halls of the museum.

Marty had been holding something very delicate in his hands, "This is what he came to see." He gestured to the object he had just carefully place on the table in front of them. He could remember this Tony Field very clearly now because he had been extremely interested in this piece of art and the history it held. He had to wear white gloves so he wasn't actually touching the item directly. It was also lying on a board – preventing anyone from touching it. No one could touch it directly unless permission was given and gloves were on.

Avery was the one to recognize it and her eyes lit up when she realized what it was, "The Spanish Victory Bond." She leaned in a little closer, admiring all the amazing detail it contained. She's seen it a couple of times in books over the years but looking at it in person was amazing.

Marty looked to her with a few blinks to his eyes. He was surprised she even knew what it was because most people didn't unless they were told by him, "Yes." He confirmed, happy that she had known what it was.

Peter looked at his sister and gave her a look that she understood. It was now time to do another part to her job and that's doing what she did best. Authenticating this piece of art. Because if something was wrong with it, she'd be the one to find out. Avery took a few steps forwards towards the Spanish Bond and bent over the table, much like she had done back when she was trying to figure out why someone would be so interested in those story books. She began looking at the Bond closely, looking for any signs that it may be a forgery, rather than the real piece.

She was also wearing those silk white gloves so she could hold and inspect it further.

"He took several photographs of it." Marty continued, his head turning towards the Agent while cautiously looking over to the woman. It was his nerves obviously playing up because he never liked it when someone, other than himself, was touching the Spanish Bond. It was special to him, but also to the museum. "Said he was going to write a book too, so, it's a shame he's dead really." That would have been a book he'd buy upon the release. "This Bond does have a _fascinating_ history." Looking over at the object of admiration.

Avery's lips were pulled into a frown, her head tilted curiously as a familiar smell hit her nostrils. "It's a Goya." She noted, finding things start to fall into place. This was a beautiful piece of art and one she'd love to try recreating. She also knew right then, that this was someone's attempt at a recreation. And obviously, Marty didn't even know it had been switched right behind his back.

"Yes," Marty nodded, a cheerful smile on his face, "And it's beautiful, isn't it?" Avery certainly couldn't deny that because art was her life, and this recreation truly was outstanding.

Peter suddenly thought of something. The Spanish parchment from the books they had seized looked awfully like this Spanish bond, both in base color and size. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he retrieved the sheet that he decided to bring with them. After realizing what he was doing, his sister placed the Bond down and let him test his theory. Peter hovered the clear sheet over the Bond and with exact measures - the parchments were completely identical.

"Well, look at that," Peter muttered to himself before glancing over to Avery, "It's a perfect fit."

Avery knew all about the Bond, but for her brother's benefit, she decided to ask Marty something he had already brought up. "So, you said this Bond had a fascinating history." She prompted him to start telling them about it.

Peter reached back with the parchment and folded it up again, placing it back into his jacket. He turned back just as the man began explaining.

"Oh, quite." Marty nodded, "It was issued during the war."

"1944."

"Yes," The man loved that she had all this knowledge. It wasn't common that people studied the art or found it as fascinated as he did, "The U.S. issued it to support the Spanish Underground in their battle against the Axis. Very few of these have ever been redeemed." He watched as the woman looked down at the bond again. Her eyes were narrowing as the details popped out. "There's speculation that entire boxes were captured and that many of them are still hidden away in the caves of Altamira."

Peter looked at him, his eyebrows raising, "Whole boxes of these?" He questioned, seeing a motive forming for this Spanish Bond.

Marty obviously didn't seem to be concerned by it, "Yep," He said, "And boy, that would be something, wouldn't it?" He thought about what might happen if the National Achieves could acquire those boxes of Bonds. Not only would they be worth a fortune, but the amount of history and sentiment they hold would be truly exquisite. He simply chuckled with excitement at the prospect.

"This is the only surviving copy."

Avery nodded as he announced that statement, understanding that he believed that, but unfortunately, she was about to ruin both his and her brother's day. She looked up with a small sigh, looking apologetic towards the man, "Except it's a forgery." She revealed without a doubt in her words.

Marty took a double take while his heart made a shutter. His head snapped towards her and any trace of a smile left his face. It also went a little white and he looked as though he wanted to faint. "No," He denied, shaking his head, "No, that's not possible."

Peter looked between the two but mostly towards his sister. He wanted a strong explanation to exactly why she was concluding that this Bond was indeed a fake. "How do you know?"

Avery held the Bond up for both the men to see, and she pointed towards the main picture on the front. "The copying of the design is pretty much spot on but it's the ink that's the issue." She began explaining, "This is iron-gall dye mixed to match period colors … but it hasn't even dried yet." That's where the smell had been coming from. She held the Bond towards them, "You can clearly still smell the gum arabic."

Marty and Peter took a sniff at the same time and could both smell the same thing she had when first observing it. While Peter smirked with accomplishment, the other guy just didn't want to believe it. The Bond couldn't have been stolen under his watch – not only would he be in _deep_ trouble for it, but also the fact that someone had stolen a valuable piece of history under his nose was almost inconceivable.

"No, no." Marty shook his head with contradiction, "This Spanish Bond has been here since 1952." He said adamantly.

"It's been here less than a week, give or take a day or two."

Marty just stared at Avery a moment before having to swallow hard. A little squeaky noise popped from his mouth and he could barely take another breath.

He was _so_ screwed.

…

Back in the FBI building that night, everyone was sitting around the conference room table as they went over everything that had been concluded during this investigation. Avery was sitting back in one of the chairs, fiddling with elastic bands – she had stuck up a piece of paper with a hand-drawn bullseye on the wall. Now she was flinging the elastics at it, trying to hit the red dot in the middle as she listened and made an input when she wanted to say something.

Neil was also sitting in a chair right next to her while Diana was half on the table with Jones standing beside her.

"Okay." Peter began, pacing by the desk as the details flooded through his mind like a river, "Tony makes two trips. The first time he takes a picture of the Bond and the second time, he steals the original and replaces it with the copy we have here." The National Achieves gave them permission to take it in as evidence. All they wanted was their original back – so they were willing to do anything to help retrieve it.

"Can we confirm that?"

Jones nodded, "The timed ink identification test puts the age of the Bond at approximately six days." The results had come back about thirty minutes ago, and obviously, Avery had been right about both the forgery and the time the Bond was made.

"The timeline matches with Tony's visit then," Neil mentioned.

"We're pulling surveillance video to back it up too." Diana continued for him.

"Good," Peter nodded, liking his team right now more than ever. "So, the question is … why go to all that trouble of making a nice forgery, on the right kind of paper, just to stick it back in the achieves?"

After Avery flicked another rubber band across the room, successfully hitting the red bullseye, a frown lifted on her lips as a thought came to her. Her fingers paused before another band could be released, "Are the bonds still negotiable?" She wondered out loud, glancing over to her brother and his team.

"It's a zero option so it never expires." Her brother replied, his train of thought linking with her own for a moment. He looked over to Jones who knew more about this subject than he did, "What's it worth?"

Jones put his thinking cap on. "Well, it's a thousand dollars face value." He replied, walking over to a calculator sitting on the desk. He was about to do some math that required way too many of his brain cells if he used just his brain. Using a machine can do the calculations for him. "Drawing a 9 percent interest-"

"-compound for 64 years." Diana mused, looking over Jones' shoulder as he plugged the numbers into the calculator. However, just before the calculations were fully imputed into the machine, two voices echoed each other as they said the exact same number.

"$248,000." The voices came from Neil and Avery, who calculated the equations in their heads within a record time. Both blinked in surprise and turned to each other, realizing that they had just answered the large mathematical question at the same time. The other three in the room were looking at them with shock, but mostly because of the fact they had said the answer in union.

There was a moment of silence before Jones cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Uh, what they said." Looking down at the same answer flashing on his calculator.

"A quarter of a million, not chump change." Peter mused, thinking back to the books again, "And he has 600 sheets of this stuff." Blinking, he glanced over to the two brain boxes in the room and so did the other two Agents situated next to him.

Avery glanced over to Neil, wondering if he wanted to take the spotlight but he just sent her a gesture for her to continue for them. He was going to let her answer this one by herself. Shrugging, she started to thinking, plugging the equation through her head in a fast but correct manner. "A hundred and fifty million." She answered after a few seconds of thought, blowing everyone's mind in the room. "Well, give or take a few." A small smirk lifted on her lips when she noticed the impressed looks, but she knew they figured it was a show-off. It worked, though.

Peter hummed – that was a lot of money. "He'd be a rich man if he could pass them off. It still doesn't tell us _why_ he would take out the real bond and replace it with a forgery, though."

"Yeah, it does actually," Avery stated, see a clear picture of a plan form in her head. It was a good one too. It's something she'd do anyway. Everyone in the room turned to her, wondering what she was talking about – because clearly, they didn't know, even Neil. She looked between each of them, "What if he claimed he found boxes of the original bonds? The ones that were lost like Marty said?"

"Dragged them out of those caves in Spain." Peter started to slowly follow along, indeed remembering back to what the caretaker had said about the history of the Bonds.

"And how would they be authenticated…?" She left her words hanging in the air, letting someone else in the room take a stab at the answer.

"They'd be taken to the achieves and compared to the original that's already been found." Neil's head perked up, figuring out where this conversation was heading. It all made sense, and it was a pretty genius plan from what he could see. Except, of course, they figured it out.

Ava grinned, glancing over at him as he answered the question right. She knew they were going to be fast friends at least. "Exactly." She nodded, shifting in her seat so her body was more aimed towards him more than anyone else in the room. "And he's already switched out the original with his own."

"So they're definitely going to match and it pushes away any suspicion of a forgery."

"The Dutchman would have gotten away with gaining millions of dollars for those forgeries and no one would have ever known."

"Until we came along."

Ava quirked a grin, "Until we came along." She repeated, having forgotten that there were other people in the room. Neal looked as though he felt the same way as they spit-balled comments on the case. She heard a throat clearing from the other side of the room, from her brother. He wasn't looking very happy, a little unpleased but there was some teasing in his tone when he said.

"Don't you corrupt my agent, Ava." He told her, raising a stern eyebrow towards her but there was a seriousness behind it. He didn't want Neal to drive down the path to becoming a criminal, he was one of the best he had in White Collar, along with Diana and Jones.

Overriding past their finishing sentence phase, he continued in a way that addressed to everyone. "But this is good, this is really good." He praised the two anyway. They figured everything out together within a very short amount of time.

Peter was about to continue but the sound of a cell phone ringing stopped him in his tracks.

Diana reached over to the phone lying in the middle of the conference desk and looked to see who it was that was calling. "It's Elizabeth." She said, looking toward Peter and held the phone out towards him.

"Ah, crap." Peter cursed under his breath, realizing what this call was probably going to be about, especially after having just glanced at the time on his watch. _Dinner._ Elizabeth and he were supposed to be having a family dinner tonight and he promised he wouldn't be late this time. He gestured for everyone to get out of the conference so he could take the call in a silent room. He didn't like anyone being in the vicinity as he takes a phone call. It was just an irritation he had gained over the years.

He took a deep breath before answering the phone call that would disappoint his wife, again.

…

"So," Ava started, shifting in the passenger seat of her brother's car as he drove her home for the night. She looked over at him with a grin, knowing what special event was happening for him and his wife this weekend. It was their wedding anniversary. Yes, she kept up with her brother's life. "What have you got planned for this weekend?" She looked eager to know what he had planned.

Peter glanced over at her, thinking about what he could give as an answer, it would probably be the same as usual. "Oh, you know, I've gotta fix the sink at some point and maybe catch the game later too." That was all he said and the following silence made his sister frown.

"With … Elizabeth?" She said with confusion. Was that it? Did he really have nothing special planned for the weekend with his wife on their yearly anniversary?

"Yeah," Peter didn't seem to hear the difference of tone behind her words but instead just smiled, "She's into it. How cool is that?" Referring to the game. Usually, it would be considered a man's thing but it was amazing that his wife loved the same thing too. At this point, Ava was beginning to think the special event had somehow slipped her brother's mind. "She likes to watch the Giants."

"Mm-hm." Avery gave a small nod to her head, glancing out the window for a moment before turning back to her brother. "Even on your _anniversary_?" Putting emphasis on the last word specifically.

The car suddenly skidded to a near stop, making Ava jolt a little by the sudden movement. Her hands had to clench around the armrests either side of her. But by just that action alone with the car, it was clear Peter had forgotten all about it. He was cursing at himself, yet again, "I see this stuff coming from six months out, and then I take it right in the teeth, every time." Anger for forgetting was directing to himself.

"Wow, okay, relax." His sister put up a hand to stop his self-loathing, "You still have a couple of days."

"No," Peter shook his head, remembering what had happened during the previous years. "This is what happened last year, and the year before that. Each time I said I'd make up for it with something special." A honk sounded from behind him, further pissing him off, "And not just a corner booth at Donatella's and a romp in the sheets."

Ava made a small grimace with her mouth, not really wanting to hear about her brother's sex life. He could keep that to himself for all she cared. "Well, that's romantic." She commented sarcastically, hoping that if she ever decided to have either a boyfriend or husband, they'd want to do something special for the yearly anniversary.

"Well, we've been married a decade." Peter continued, passing by the sarcasm, "But that doesn't cut it anymore. She means more to me than that."

"Okay, Monsieur Romeo." Avery began, about to try and help her brother succeed in making the best weekend within a few days. "Let's problem solve – what's Elizabeth into?"

Because they were stopped at an intersection, Peter looked over at her dumbly, "Sexually?" Surprised she wanted to be talking about something like that … with _him_.

Ava scrunched up her nose in disgust as a reply, "Ew." She immediately stated, "No." She rephrased what she wanted to know, "Existentially – what is it that makes her feel alive?"

Peter fell silent but his mouth did make a few out-of-water fish motions as he thought about the question. At least, he tried to think of something to answer to that question. He … he couldn't think of anything. Nothing came to mind.

"Oh, my god." Ava looked at him with a gobsmacked expression, "Are you kidding me?" Seeing the face he usually makes whenever he couldn't think of anything to answer a question with. "You SERIOUSLY don't know what your own wife loves to do or what makes her love her life?" She blinked, surprised he even still has a wife, as bad as that sounds, "Wow, just … _wow_."

Peter looked over at her helplessly, "What the hell am I going to do?"

Avery just lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, no." She told him, not going to help him after all. There was nothing she could really do until she knew what Elizabeth really liked. It would be best to let Peter figure it all out for himself after all. That's what a husband is supposed to do. "You're on your own, bud." She said finally before turning to look outside her window, letting the rain be the only thing she could hear.

The car fell silent apart from the occasional honks from the cars behind, the rain dripping against the car with continuous pats.

…

With a sigh; Avery placed the fedora on the base of the banister as soon as she got back to June's place. The place she now called home. Today had been a long and exhausting day and all she wanted to do was sleep. But it had been a great day, nonetheless. This was so much better than being in prison, forced to do the exact same things over and over again.

It wasn't until she had taken a few steps up the stairs that something moved in the corner of her eye. It came from the living room further down from where she was. Creasing her eyebrows, she cautiously made her way back down to the main level, wondering if she'll have to fight off an intruder. She would do that in order to protect the woman who was giving her a place to stay.

As she started walking towards the living room, keeping her eyes on the person she could clearly see sitting down at the dining room table, she grabbed one of the umbrellas in the holder. That would make a good weapon of choice. The room was near enough pitch black and she couldn't see any of the facial features on this person. She could tell it was male, but other than that, nothing.

It wasn't until she was less than a few meters away that the man finally started to speak.

"I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxicab of absolute reality." He said, and upon saying this, Avery knew exactly who it was. She let down the umbrella she had been holding up and sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder but didn't think at the same time she'd see this particular man tonight.

Ava shook her head as she made her way over to the light switch and flicked it on. "What the hell, Mozzie?" She said quietly, but just loud enough for the man to hear. She turned to the new face in the room. He shouldn't be around while her brother could have been here – it wouldn't have ended well. Mozzie wasn't exactly the cleanest guy when it came to finding out information or even just doing things in general. Although, he was cleaner than she was, but that wasn't the point.

Mozzie was a short fellow with little to no hair on his head. He only had hair that was an inch-long that covered the sides of his head while the top remained bald. He wore thick black glasses and overall, he had a homey and friendly feel to his aura. He wore comfortable clothing that someone would wear during a day where they'd stay indoors. He didn't care about style, all he liked was comfort.

Avery couldn't help but grin anyway by the sight of the smile plastered on her longest friend's face, "Sitting in the dark, misquoting Ginsberg?" It was so nice to see him, it's been such a long time since they've had a face-to-face. Over four years to be exact. She walked over as he stood, giving him a hug in which he very much returned as tightly as she did.

"The light's how they find you, man." He shook his head, pulling away from her after a minute.

The glass of wine was the first thing that caught Ava's notice as she pulled away. She sent a stern warning towards her best friend. "Hey, you know, you can't just help yourself, not here." Her brow creased suddenly, looking back at the front door, "How did you get in anyway?"

Mozzie held up a fist and pretended to be fearless, "I used this."

Ava just raised an eyebrow.

"I knocked." He finally answered truthfully, "I introduced myself to June, she's a great lady." He sent her a grin as she took a seat in one of the other chairs around the dining room table, the one that was two seats away from him. "Is the granddaughter taken?" She was a very nice young lady, just like June, but was even more beautiful.

"I have no idea, Moz." Ava smiled, answering his question. After a moment of silence, she spoke again with gratefulness in her tone. "But, thank you for coming." She told him. Soon after she was released from prison she had sent him a message telling him she was out. There was going to come a time when Mozzie's expertise was also needed to help solve this Dutchman's case.

"What was I going to do?" Mozzie retorted, still looking happy to see her, "Not come?" His eyes flickered down towards her ankle. "Can I see it?"

Ava already knew what he wanted to see so she lifted up her leg, resting her ankle on one of the chair's resting arms. The anklet was snugly resting above her ankle line and around the edge of the zipper of her boots.

"Is it something you can pick?" She asked him, curious to know the answer. She assumed not because from what she had said to Peter before was true, no one has successfully been able to breach the anklet since this new version came out.

Mozzie only had to take one distant look to give a straight answer. "No way." He shook his head, adamant. "Not that thing." His answer made another sigh come from her lips, one of a little disappointment. Ava pulled her leg back down as he continued, "You flew too close to the sun, my friend. They burned your wings."

"Where's Megan, Moz?" Ava finally asked him. This was one of the reasons why she wanted to see him. "Where'd she go?"

Mozzie sent her an apologetic look, "She's a ghost, man." He replied sadly, "She did an outstanding job in covering her every track."

Avery leaned back into her chair, looking conflicted, "I guess we just have to keep looking," She murmured to herself, "Maybe we'll get lucky." She glanced back over to him, "Don't forget to check France."

Mozzie was confused by the singular country pick, "France?"

Avery just sent him a shrug, "It's just somewhere she might go." It was a place they had discussed together on multiple occasions – a country so rich with art would be amazing to be around. So far, she hasn't been given the chance to go there yet.

The Spanish Bond suddenly came to her thoughts, "Oh, I need you to help me out with something else while you're here." She retrieved the copy that had been found at the museum, pulling it from her back pocket. She knew she'll be in deep trouble after this when her brother finds out she's stolen a piece of evidence to take home with her. "I need to find out who created this." She placed the forged Bond in front of him, letting him take a closer look at the masterpiece.

Mozzie's eyes were widened in amazement, "It's superb." Was the first thing to come out of his mouth the moment he first placed it in front of him. He pushed up his glasses so he could see better. They worked for long distances, but not necessarily for short ones.

Ava grinned, having felt the exact same way when she first saw it, "I know, right?"

"You wanna know the worst thing about art forgery?" He questioned rhetorically as he started looking deeper into the Spanish Bond, trying to determine whose it's maker was. His eyes dotted around it to see any indifferences that may stand out to him. "You can't take credit for your work..."

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 _ **The next chapter will have the rest of the Pilot episode contained within!**_


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